


Swamped

by Janatee



Series: Fitzsimmons [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, SHIELD Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 08:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1976751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janatee/pseuds/Janatee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“’No, I’m not hurt. I just…mixed up the labels. I don’t know how I could be so stupid!’<br/>‘It is two in the morning,’ he said kindly. She didn’t seem to hear him.<br/>‘And just-I don’t know! I’ve been studying so hard I swear I’m going mad, and of course Professor Atwood thinks his class is the only one we have this whole bloody semester, so our exam is bound to be impossible. And now I’ve wrecked the lab, and my entire study schedule is shot!’”</p><p>In a late-night study session, Simmons accidentally floods the lab, and calls Fitz for help. But the flood is the least of his worries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swamped

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for Fitzsimmons Week's prompt "Stupidity" and was originally posted on star-spangled-souffle.tumblr.com

Simmons’ vision blurred, and she blinked furiously, attempting to combat her fatigue. _Come on,_ she thought, _Just two more hours._ She squinted at the tiny label. Was this the right solid? Probably. She scooped out 5 mg onto a scale and poured it into her beaker.

_BOOM!_

A fireball burst forth from the solution, shattered the glass, and sent a pillar of smoke billowing upwards. Simmons coughed, waving the smoke away from her face. As she scrambled to find a dustpan, she heard an alarm bell and a hissing noise from the ceiling. _What could-_

She looked up and got water sprayed into her face. The sprinklers! Water poured down from above, soaking her through and quickly flooding the lab. She scrambled towards the emergency shutoff, her feet splashing as she went. She flipped the rightmost switch to “off,” and the water stopped.

_______

Fitz’s ringtone woke him up, and he scrambled to pick it up.

“Hello?” he said, groggily.

“Fitz! Help!”

He held the phone away from his ear.

“Jeez, no need to blow out my eardrums. What’s up?”

“You’ve got to come to the lab,” she said, “There’s water everywhere.”

He rolled over to look at his clock. “Mother of-what are you doing in the lab at two in the morning?! It’s ungodly!”

“The lab’s flooded!”

He could sense the desperation in her voice. With finals week starting in two days, everyone was on edge, and Simmons had nearly lost it several times already.

 “I’m on my way,” he said. _Click._

_______

Simmons set the phone aside and wrung her hands. What could she have been thinking?? How could she have made such a dumb mistake?

 _Keep it together,_ she thought, _It’s fine. Fitz is coming. It’s fine._

Fitz walked in.

“Holy mackerel,” he cried, “It looks like a-”

He saw her face and stopped. “Sorry. It’s okay, Jemma,” he said, “We’ll get this fixed.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

 “Are you hurt?” he asked. She was shivering, dripping wet, and white as a sheet; he hoped she hadn’t been burned or cut with what looked like a pretty severe explosion.

“No, I’m not hurt. I just…mixed up the labels. I don’t know how I could be so stupid!”

“It is two in the morning,” he said kindly. She didn’t seem to hear him.  
“And just-I don’t know! I’ve been studying so hard I swear I’m going mad, and of course Professor Atwood thinks his class is the only one we have this whole bloody semester, so our exam is bound to be impossible. And now I’ve wrecked the lab, and my entire study schedule is shot!”

She sat down hard on the lab bench, and put her head in her hands. “Professor Granger is going to be furious! What if I’m banned from the lab?”

She lifted her head, her eyes puffy and red.

“I’m sure I will be,” she continued hysterically, “I knew it. I’m not right for S.H.I.E.L.D., there’s no way I can have everything ready by-”

“Hey,” Fitz said, putting a hand on her shoulder, “I told you; we’ll fix this. No need to worry. I’ve got a janitor with keys to the vacuum pump storage that owes me a favor. Don’t ask.”

 She didn’t say anything, so he gave her an encouraging smile. “Just sit tight,” he said, “Make yourself a cup of tea; you need something to relax. I’ll be back soon.”

__________

Jemma readied the mops as Fitz ran the pump. She felt exhausted. _That’s what happens when you get four hours of sleep a night_ , she thought, _Exams are going to be the death of me._ And though Fitz, had taken care of the mess (thank heavens), it had set her back several hours, and she still had a report to finish by the next afternoon. There was no way she could get everything done on time. _You can’t talk like that,_ she thought, _Everyone is expecting great things from you._

Somehow, that didn’t help.

__________

 “That wasn’t so bad,” said Fitz, admiring their work, “We did a nice job, too. Even Dr. Chiltons’s lectures would be hard pressed to be dryer than this."

Jemma smiled. Leave it to Fitz to crack a joke at a time like this.  
“Thank you. Sorry for going completely bonkers,” she said, and picked up her bag, “See you tomorrow, alright?”

“Where do you think you’re going?” said Fitz, “You’re in no shape to get any studying done.”

“But I have to-”

“Aren’t you the one always telling me to take better care of myself?” he said, and shook his head. “Shameful. At least change into dry clothes. We’ll worry about sleep when you’re not sopping wet.”

It was hard to argue with that.

_________

They sat on Simmons’ futon, dressed in pajamas. Two empty bowls sat discarded on the floor, filled with scattered remains of late-night ramen. Fitz had put in _The Girl in the Fireplace_ from his Doctor Who box set. It was one of Jemma’s favourites; she’d seen it probably fifteen times. Fitz knew from experience just how calming something familiar could be. _Like Jemma,_ he thought happily, _Though not tonight. She’s more panicked than a gypsy with a mortgage,_ he thought. Lab work at two in the morning. That took a certain kind of crazy.

“Have you met the French?” said the Doctor onscreen, “My God, they know how to party!”

Fitz laughed.

“Cheeky little bugger,” he said, “I forgot about that bit, Jemma. Jemma?”

Was she asleep? She’d rested her head on his shoulder so he couldn’t see her eyes.

“Jemma?” he said again, shaking his shoulder gently. Nothing.

Ftiz carefully supported her head, crawled out from underneath her, and lowered her onto the futon. He turned off the lights and tiptoed towards the door.

“See you tomorrow, Jemma,” he whispered.

 


End file.
